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Welcome to Three Word Wednesday.
Each week, Bone will post three (or more) random words. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write something using all of those words. It can be a few lines, a story, a poem, anything. This is a writing exercise. It doesn't have to be perfect. The idea is to let your mind wander and write what it will.
This week's words are:
I decided to continue with the story I started 3WW with last week.
Being a messenger for the rich and famous definitely had it's perks, and though I worked for peanuts, the tips alone made up for all that I endured on a daily basis. Being one of the few female messengers in the city, I received my share of snide comments and foul language. Surprisingly, all of that paled in comparison to the attitudes I got from the "coiffed and manicured" that I would sometimes do a pick up for. Barely legal, these girls were eye candy for the rich older men they were married to. Yet they had the gall to judge me. Let me just say that the men always tip well, that is when they didn't have their wives doing the "drop". The girl brides would sometimes hand off or receive a package for their husbands and pocket part of my tip right in front of me.
I often wondered to myself what exactly was in those plain white envelopes, and brown paper wrapped boxes but I knew better that to let my curiosity get the best of me. I had a job to do and a portly cat to support, so I wasn't about to break the Messengers Code just to satisfy the devil on my shoulder.
I'd been working at Special Delivery for about 2 years when all of this started, when my search for Hope began. The owner Frank was a quiet guy. You didn't hear much from him unless you messed up a delivery, and though my job is not what you would call an ambitious one, I liked it a lot.
As I lounged on my bed, I could see through my window the intensely colorful Las Vegas sunset. My boss was a stickler for vacation time, his philosophy was "use it or lose it". We had 6 months to use our accrued vacation time, that was it. I had a week coming to me, and I had the itch, so why not Vegas? I could afford the Bellagio, but I decided to stay at The Luxor where I was a little more comfortable. I had been through the water feature more time than I could count, and though the Egyptian themed hotel seemed cheesy to most people, it was just the right amount of exotic for a practical gal like me.
The first order of business was to head over to the New York, New York Casino for a slice of Pizza Margherita at their restaurant Il Fornaio. My mouth watered just thinking of it! I thought about the three days ahead of me in Vegas, then the three I would spend at home recovering from over-indulgence... and instantly my stomach was in a tight knot. The pessimistic cynic in me never failed in the "half empty" department, and though my week away had just started, I was already telling myself that I would be back to work in 7 days.
I wish I could have turned my brain off for a few hours and enjoyed the moment, and enjoyed the bright lights and free drinks. I wish I could have known what the future had in store for me, because I would have taken in every moment and every interaction like it was to be my last.
I thought about this now, the uneventful vacation and the all that had happened since- and as I did I managed a muffled and tearful laugh as I struggled with the duct tape at my wrists.
One little slip up, the bending of a rule was all it took. The contents of that brown papered box was never meant for a lowly rookie messenger like me, or for any messenger for that matter. It's not my fault that Angel or Trixie- what ever the heck her name was- didn't tape the box correctly.
Note to self- Being stuffed in the trunk of a BMW, gagged and duct taped, is no way to live your life.